


The Diplomatic Mission

by Ibenholt



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibenholt/pseuds/Ibenholt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Centauri diplomatic mission to your homeworld has been closed for, what, several years now? Some trouble, I understand, with our last envoy.</p><p>Londo Mollari, to Delenn<br/>Season 3</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Diplomatic Mission

If there was an admirable quality to the humans, if would have to be that they had an expression for almost anything. In this case, the classical: "There are good news, and there are bad news" was very apt. The good news was that there had been no deaths. The bad news was that the headaches, injuries and hurt pride would not go away in a hurry. And the one who would last recover from them was the one responsible for the entire affair.

Anir Jamelli, the latest arrival on the new collection of diplomats, had never intended the damage he had done. He was still so young that if ever he had a desire to hurt or kill someone, he forgot it after a few bottles and the kisses of a beautiful woman. And while there was no lack of beautiful women on Minbar, they were chaste and not even a sweet-tongued Centauri lad could change that. Anir admitted defeat as he had no intention of forcing himself onto anyone, and decided to direct his energy onto drinking instead. Had he thought it over and perhaps done some research before accepting his post, Anir would have discovered that alcohol did not exist on Minbar. When he did, he laughed heartily, thinking it was a joke. 

He attempted to pass the time with meditation, but every time he was certain he was reaching enlightenment, he was awakened by his own snoring.

He was recommended trying one of the many fighting styles his hosts had developed. He threw one glance at some Minbari who were fighting with pikes and immediately turned on his heel. He had never been serious about the Curo Prido, and he was not particularly strong. He therefore locked himself up in his room and began making a few calls to Centauri Prime.

He was of a rich house, which was why it was no problem for him to smuggle in a fine supply. But as he was about to set the first bottle in far too long to his lips, he paused. It was greedy of him to keep the precious drops to himself when others could benefit from them. He had been welcomed kindly by people he had been told were cold and mysterious. They had even tried to help him becoming distracted from the two things he needed to feel at home. That kind of charity should be rewarded in the best way possible. 

He had seen his chance at a small banquet meant to welcome him and his colleagues. As the main speaker put on his friendliest face and thanked them all for coming to Minbar to better relations between their people, Anir snuck into the kitchen. From inside his waistcoat, he found a small bottle which content could leave him blind if he emptied it by himself. He poured a few drops into each drink, snickering at the thought of what was about to commence. His younger brother's 16th birthday party had become a night of entertainment for him, as the young men he had invited got drunk on pure brivari instead of the watered out version they commonly drank. Why would this be any different?

He walked out of the kitchen, proud of not having been spotted. He was certain it was for the best that he did not serve it to them personally. When they came to themselves after being drunk, he would reveal what he had done. It was a brilliant strategy to improve relations between their planets. Perhaps even brivari trade? The speaker was reaching the end, and had been informed that toasts were common in most of the other worlds. Everyone was handed a glass that they lifted in hopes of good relations and a productive year.

Anir drank, grimacing at how weak it tasted. But the next moment, when someone wailed in anger and planted their fist in the face of the person beside them, the taste lost its importance. The entire room was filled with fighting, blood thirsty Minbari.

The other representatives fled for their lives, but Anir stayed behind, hoping to be able to calm someone, but was instead hit on the head and assaulted by three angry religious caste members.

The Narn diplomat, D'Nuhr, saw this as she was about to close the door behind them. She and Anir had ignored each other for the most part, not wishing to embarrass themselves or the worlds they were representing. If their eyes met, it was only to exchange ice cold glances. That was why the other representatives stared in surprise as she turned around, fought off everyone who tried to stop her and came running back to the others with him in her arms. When asked about it after they had barred the doors, she calmly replied that dying from being stomped into the ground was too good for him, and that he should be fully conscious during his death.

The noises behind the doors stopped after an hour, and they assmued that the Minbari had beaten each other unconscious or killed each other. No one felt tempted to see what had happened, however. The Drazi diplomat showed D'Nuhr to the medical facility, and the others contacted the security guards that had not attended the banquet.

The morning after, bruised Minbari with swollen eyes and split lips were everywhere. Du'Nuhr dragged Anir to their hosts after his crest and got him to admit what he had done. He still insisted that the amount had been slight. They spared him any lectures, as they thought it would be wasted on him. And it was pointless to subject him to any kind of punishment, as he already was badly hurt from his little experiment. He had a broken leg, a dislocated shoulder and enough cuts and bruises for one lifetime. It was decided that he would lose his position and be sent home, something he did not mind in the least.

He had been certain that his family would disown him, or at best, never try to help him with his career again. But all the anger that had been on his parents' faces when he came back vanished when they saw him stagger out from the transport with a crutch under his arm. They covered his swollen face with kisses and led him out to the shuttle that would take them home.

Emperor Turhan was deeply disappointed, and many of his advisors thought the best thing would be to strip the family of all privileges, power and money. But as soon as the story was explained from both sides, Turhan saw even less reason than the Minbari in punishing the boy or his family. The affair was embarrassing for both people, and as no one had died, it was brushed off as a cultural misunderstanding and never looked into again.


End file.
